Superstitious
by Crimson and Chrome 42
Summary: Is Casey McDonald really who she seems? Class keener, bane of Derek Venturi's existence, and all-around girl-next-door? Boring. As Casey and Derek get ready to graduate high school, Casey's past comes back to visit. Has Casey been keeping secrets?
1. Chapter 1

Superstitious

By Crimson and Chrome 42

Summary: Is Casey McDonald really who she seems? Class keener, bane of Derek Venturi's existence, and all-around girl-next-door? Boring. As Casey and Derek get ready to graduate high school, Casey's past comes back to visit. Has Casey been keeping secrets?

~~~  
Disclaimer: Normal disclaimers apply to all chapters. Anything that is even slightly recognizable is not owned by me. I've only borrowed the music, the characters, and in some cases, plot points. The only thing I gain from this is the pleasure of creating a story (or twisting a story, believe as you wish).

~~~  
A.N. Some of you may recognize similarities in this story to one already on this site called _Second Chances_ by Dark-Supernatural-Angel, this is somewhat intentional, as I took inspiration for this story from that one. I have informed Dark-Supernatural-Angel of this and have been granted permission to do this. For those of you who have not read _Second Chances_, I encourage you to do so—it is a fantastic story and well-written. Also, I have not seen all of the episodes of _Life With Derek_, so if something doesn't fit with that, please just go with it, this isn't supposed to be canonical anyway.

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**Chapter One**

"Romeo take me somewhere we can be alone…" Casey groaned, she loathed Taylor Swift and waking up to the bubble-gummer at 6:30 in the morning was not a good sign of things to come. "I've been waiting so all we have to do is run…" she slapped the snooze button and the offending bubble-gum music ceased, for 10 minutes at least.

10 minutes later her clock radio began blasting again, "Romeo take me somewhere we can be alone…" "AHHH!" Casey screamed—this definitely meant bad things were ahead for the week.

"DEREK! What did you do to Casey?" George yelled up the stairs.

"Nothing! It wasn't me!"

"Yeah, sure, Derek. Whatever it is, fix it and apologize to her."

"But I didn't DO anything!"

Casey viciously slapped at the snooze button… "You'll be the prince and I'll be the princess..." She slapped out again, "It's a love story baby just say…", finally connecting with the off button.

"Derek, just apologize!"

She sighed, "George! Derek hasn't done anything to me yet!"

"Thank you!"

"Will you people stop yelling?!" Edwin interjected, "Some of us are trying to sleep!"

Casey rolled her eyes, but ceased her yelling, she rolled out of bed and made her way to her door. Just as she opened her door she heard Derek in the bedroom next to hers and then Derek sprint toward the bathroom door. "Beat ya again, Space Case!" he crowed from the bathroom doorway. Casey wasn't in the mood to engage in their usual morning battle for the bathroom and such; she was going to skip the shower until later today and just go directly down to breakfast.

"Casey, you're not dressed for school." Nora stated.

Casey snorted softly, _way to state the obvious, Nora._ "No, I thought I'd wait until later on this afternoon or tonight to take my shower. I'll get dressed after breakfast."

"Oh." Nora tilted her head and looked at her suspiciously, "Are you feeling ok, honey?"

"Yeah, I'm fine." Casey didn't think she was lying. "I'm just a little tired, ready for the end of term and all."

"I understand." Nora smiled sadly.

Casey opened her mouth to respond when there was a knock at the side door and Sam and Ralph walked into the kitchen, waving good morning. At that moment, Derek walked in, taking Casey's breakfast plate from her and beginning to eat. Still not in the mood to fight with Derek, Casey just rolled her eyes and got up to go get ready for school.

Sam, Ralph, and Derek looked at Nora, "What's with her?" Derek asked, "What did you do, Derek?" Sam asked, "Can I have her share?" asked Ralph.

Nora shrugged in response and said, "Just tired I guess."

"Why do you assume that I did something, Sam?"

This time Ralph answered, "Because anytime there is something wrong with Casey, you have something to do with it."

"That's not true! She's a complete psycho, especially when she's dating some dweeb—"

"Hey!" Sam cried indignantly.

"—or on her period." Finished Derek.

"What about my period?" asked Casey, reappearing from her room fully clothed in a pair of jeans, a black v-neck t-shirt, and a pair of black Nikes. She was pulling her hair up into a high ponytail with a black hair band.

"What are you wearing?" asked Derek, not wanting to discuss her period with her.

"Clothes, Derek. It is customary for one to wear them when they leave their house, is it not?"

Derek was slightly taken aback, Casey's tone managed to be flip and cold at the same time, it wasn't like her. Something was up, and he was sure he hadn't pulled any pranks on her for the past couple of weeks, so he didn't think that was it. He kept track of when she was on her cycle, so that he knew when to steer clear of her (he actually had it marked in his calendar), and she wasn't due for a couple of weeks. She was single, she hadn't gone out on a date for a couple of weeks—maybe that was it?

"Oh, God, please always stay clothed!"

Casey quirked an eyebrow at him, "You're off your game today, Derek." She paused, "I'm gonna walk to school. See ya later." And with that she was out the door and gone.

~~~  
Casey looked at her watch, 2:32, another hour and she was free of this torturous hell. The entire day had been dragging on, but this English lesson had been particularly slow-moving. She wasn't even sure what the teacher was droning on about, she was just kind of sitting there, letting her laptop record the class—not even typing notes like she usually did. Luckily, she was sitting in a back corner today and the school had free Wi-Fi, so she logged onto her yahoo account to check her email—nothing of any interest. RSS feeds next—MSNBC—mostly political bullshit; —mostly just stories about schools starting earlier because of major winter storms earlier in the year and about the record heat and drought; local London Post—really nothing of interest there except a story on a concert by a Toronto based indie rock band.

"Casey?" Mr. Rawson was standing in front of her.

She minimized her news story. "Yes?" she asked innocently.

"What was Frost getting at when he wrote this poem?"

Poem? What poem? Casey looked at the board, blank. She surreptitiously glanced at the book of the boy sitting in front of her—_Nothing Gold Can Stay_ was open in front of him. Seriously? Anyone could read _The Outsiders_ and get the meaning of that poem, verbatim—hell; they could even just watch the movie and not bother with reading anything! "His main point was that nobody can stay young and innocent forever. Eventually everyone grows up."

Mr. Rawson blinked, slightly taken aback, and also slightly impressed. "Very good, Ms. McDonald. Very good."

Casey smiled at him and watched him move back to the front of the classroom before she went back to playing on her computer.

~~~  
Casey stared at the screen in front of her—wondering how to fill the empty space before her. Give her a scientific research project—wonderful, she'd give you a ten page report on the advances that the scientific community has made in biotechnology and the implications it might have for the public at large. Give her a book and terrific! She'd give you a six page book report analyzing the sexist subtext of the interactions in the main characters' relationship. But this, this was the hardest thing she'd had to write in a long time…The last of her graduation invites. She'd already done most of them and sent them off—she really wasn't inviting too many people; just some family and a few old friends—and her father. This was the only _actual_ letter she was writing—printing and everything (Lizzie had gotten to her on the whole "Green Movement" thing—if nothing else, this way she wouldn't have to listen to her bitch about how many trees she was killing, blah, blah, blah…And it saved on stationary and stamps and things). Her writer's block was interrupted by a knock on her door. She minimized the blank word document and swiveled around to face her door. "It's open."

"Hey, Case. How're you feeling?" Nora asked, poking her head through the doorway.

Casey smiled at her aunt. "A little tired still, but I'm doing ok. How about you?" Over the years she'd learned deflection was one of the best defenses for having to talk about her true feelings.

Nora recognized the deflection and was having none of it, she raised a brow. Casey sighed, "I'm sending a graduation invite to Dad."

Nora's expression turned serious. "Graduation is in two weeks Casey, do you really think it will get there in time?"

"Part of me is hoping it won't. But I'm including a plane ticket and expressing it there, so it should." Casey admitted.

Nora nodded and moved all the way into the room, closing the door soundly behind her.

"So, what's the problem then?"

Casey tilted her head and tried to think of a way to phrase everything that was going through her head, as well as how she was feeling about it all…It wasn't easy.

Seven years ago, Casey's dad—Bobby Singer—sent her to live with his sister, her Aunt Nora. Bobby was a hunter of the supernatural and he was struggling with raising Casey as a single father. Of course, he had help with the other hunters around, but even with their help, most of them were men and when Casey turned eleven he decided that as she entered her teenage years she needed a female influence. Also, he was worried that even with all the other hunters around, maybe even _because_ of them, that he couldn't protect her. And he wanted her to have a "normal" life—whatever that was. So he shipped her out to Canada.

At first Casey was excited to see her aunt and cousin, but then she became angry with her father—who was he to say that her life at home wasn't good enough? He'd taken her away from her friends, her family—everything she'd ever known. They hardly ever talked; he was usually off on a job or doing research for one of his hunter friends.

When she moved in with Nora and Lizzie, it was decided that she needed to focus more on her studies—so she was enrolled in an all girls' school in Toronto. That didn't, however, stop her from going on a bit of a dating frenzy when she entered her freshman year in high school. She was a legend at the affiliated boys' school. Nora always wondered exactly what her niece did on her dates that made her such a popular escort—but Casey was a good girl and she trusted her, besides, Bobby and his friends had made certain that she knew how to take care of herself, so Nora never asked much beyond the normal parental questions of who, what, where, when, and why.

When Nora met George, she accidentally let slip that Casey was her daughter—what she had meant to say was she was _like_ her daughter, but by the time she realized her mistake it was too late to rectify it. So Casey and Bobby agreed that she would pose as Nora's daughter—she'd probably be safer that way. Bobby also thought, that Casey was being too wild—drawing too much attention to herself (he wouldn't say anymore than that on why it was so important that she stay under the radar), but he thought it would be for the best if Casey McDonald had a bit of a more straight-arrow personality and so "Keener" Casey was born.

Normal Casey wouldn't have been bothered at all by Derek's antics, she had grown up around a lot of guys, many of them worse than Derek ever even thought about being. Casey Singer would have retaliated—creatively; but Casey McDonald had to be whiney about it. Sometimes she really hated her dad for making her be untrue to herself—but she was sure it was for the best.

Casey missed her dad and her friends fiercely. She talked to Sam and Dean Winchester, the sons of her dad's best friend, John, quite a lot within the first few years—even when Sammy went off to Stanford. They were like the older brothers she never had. But then John disappeared and Dean had gone off to collect Sammy and then Jess died—they told her that they thought it would be safer for her if they didn't talk as much. After that she barely heard from them, just the odd email and phone call here and there. Though, they never missed a birthday—12:30 every January 23rd the cell phone that her dad had given her before she moved (he'd send her an upgrade every couple of years) would play "Carry On Wayward Son" and then Dean would wish her a happy birthday and she him, and then he'd pass the phone to Sam. They'd catch up for a bit and then she wouldn't hear from them for quite awhile.

Then one night her dad phoned, to tell her that Dean was dead—Casey was devastated, she walked around like one of the dead herself, for weeks. She tried to call Sam, but all she ever got was voicemail. She'd leave messages, but never got a phone call back.

Then she got another call from her dad—this time Sam was dead. She repeated her grieving process. It was worse on her birthday, she would be awake all night, waiting to hear "Carry On Wayward Son" or "Eye of the Tiger" (Sam's ringtone)—but nothing. She was always way more subdued on that day than she used to be. Lizzie and Nora noticed, but they were the only ones—they both knew why, they just didn't know how to help her.

A lot of this ran through Casey's mind as she contemplated what to say to her aunt. She wasn't sure who to be when she wrote this letter—Casey Singer or Casey McDonald. Or was she someone else entirely by now? She wondered if she should handwrite the letter, possibly…?

Casey shook her head, as if to shake away her thoughts and looked at her Aunt Nora, the only mother she had known for a long time now. "I don't know who I am anymore." She confessed. "And I'm not sure I know Dad anymore, either." She didn't add that she wasn't sure where to go with the whole _I'm graduating, come see_ thing either, she figured that Aunt Nora would know that one already.

Nora's heart broke just a little at these words, and she couldn't help but feel a little guilty too. "Oh, Casey." She breathed. "Honey, you are an amazing young woman. I don't know if I could have ever done what you have—with the having to pretend to be somebody else and leaving your friends and family. You helped me, Lizzie, and Dennis through a really tough time—have I thanked you for that lately?—and still managed to have straight A's and a social life. The things that you and your dad did before then, I honestly don't know how you turned out so well adjusted, I'd be a mess. You are always my strong and beautiful niece. I know my brother; you will always be his little girl. Whoever else you are, remember that you are loved, needed, strong, and amazing. And you are like my second daughter."

By this time, Casey had tears shining in her eyes and Nora had tears streaming down her cheeks. "Thank you." Casey whispered.

Nora smiled at her niece, "I'm only reminding you of what you already know, sweetheart. No matter what we will always love you. But you know, it might time to stop being Casey McDonald and get back to being Casey Singer—find out who she is now." Nora paused, "Whatever you decide, I'll be right here for you."

It was Casey's turn to smile, "Thanks Aunt Nora. That actually helps a lot."

"No problem, Case. Dinner should be ready at 6, pot roast sound good to you?"

"Always." Nora left, again closing the door firmly behind her.

Casey swiveled back to her computer and began typing.

_Dear Dad_…

~~~  
Over the next couple of weeks Derek continued to live normally—doing his best to annoy Casey and Casey did her best to keep up appearances…But she was beginning to think that Aunt Nora was right—she needed to drop being "Keener Casey" and get back to being just plain Casey, whoever that might be. The thing was, she wasn't sure how to do that in the first place. If she suddenly stopped acting like Space Case, would everything come out? The fact that she wasn't really Nora's daughter, but her niece, that she'd been lying to almost everyone for just about three years now? Where would that leave Nora?

She tried calling her dad but all she got was voicemail or the answering machine—probably off working a job or doing research for one or something else like that. She looked down at the ring on her right hand and wished she could call Dean—well, Sam was better for this kind of stuff, you want fun you call Dean, but still, she needed advice from someone from her past.

She wore the ring on her right ring finger. It was identical to the silver ring that Dean used to wear on his right ring finger—she suspected it was the very same ring. Her aunt brought the package to her when she was in recovery after having her appendix removed on her sixteenth birthday. It had been in a plain brown box—no return address, postmarked from Lawrence, Kansas. Inside the box had been a small, blue jewelry box and a handwritten note. In the blue box had been the silver ring. The note had been in Dean's hand and had said simply: "For a sweet and kickass lady on her sixteenth. Love, D." That's it. She had called his cell, hoping that by some miracle he would answer, but all she got was a message saying that the subscriber's voice mailbox was full. She cried herself to sleep that night. And ever since, the ring had resided on her right ring finger.

Casey sighed and looked at her bedside clock—11:45 p.m. Everyone should be in their rooms by now. She wondered if she could get away with leaving before everyone was asleep, she usually waited until around 1:45-2:00 before climbing out her window and shimmying down the drainpipe, but she was antsy and needed to get some of her pent up emotions worked out. Too much was changing and too much was staying the same, she was confused. Casey got up from her desk chair and made her way to her bed—just 'cause she was confused about some things was no excuse to get sloppy now, she would wait until everyone was asleep and then leave like usual. However, that didn't mean that she couldn't enjoy some _actual_ music, instead of the girl pop crap she was usually forced to listen to as "Keener Casey," thank God for ear buds and MP3 players, otherwise she would have gone completely insane years ago. Just as she was settling down to some Shinedown she heard the lyrics for Filter's "Hey Man Nice Shot" begin winding its way through the room. Casey cocked her head, looking puzzled for a moment and then moved to her closet and dug out an LG Shine II from her black hunter's duffle bag.

"Hey, Blade, what-a-ya got for me?"

~~~  
"Pretty, pretty please…Don't you ever, ever think that you're less than fuckin' perfect…" Casey cracked her eyelids, the fact that her cell phone alarm was what was waking her up this morning proved that she had been right and Derek did mess with her regular alarm clock. Half of her—the part of her that was now ingrained in her as Casey McDonald—wanted to get up and go downstairs just to ruin Derek's prank, and then the other part—the bigger part, Casey Singer—just wanted to stay in bed and be left alone. George wanted to take the family out for breakfast before the graduation-Casey didn't feel like dealing with it all this morning.

She hadn't gotten back in until around 6 that morning. She'd been dealing with a little shifter situation for Blade last night, and she was a shade sore. She still hadn't heard back from her father on whether or not he was going to be there this afternoon, most of the family and friends that she had invited wanted to be there, but couldn't make it, and she also had to give the valedictorian speech—ugh! Today was definitely a day to give in to the Casey Singer side, she was tired of pretending, and with that thought she'd made her decision to go back to being the normal her—well, finding out who that was, anyway. So, she grabbed her phone, changed the alarm time, rolled over, and closed her eyes, falling asleep minutes later.

"Pretty, pretty please…Don't you ever, ever think that you're less than fuckin' perfect…" when Casey's alarm next went off she knew instantly that she was alone in the house—it was far too quiet for even one other person to breathing within its walls. Casey was relieved—no more pretending, also no explaining or questions. She could just be while she was preparing for the afternoon's festivities.

~~~  
"DING-DONG!" Casey was just stepping out of the shower, she sighed and let out a stream of upward air. "DING-DONG!"

"Geez, give a girl a second, will you?" she murmured to herself as she wrapped a robe around herself, letting her wet hair fall in tangles around her shoulders. "DING-DONG!"

"All right! All right! I'm coming!" Casey shouted from the landing as she strode to answer the door. "Keep yer knickers on, will ya?" this last statement was said as she swung the door open to glower at whomever had dared to interrupt her rare quiet morning.

Casey's glare died and melted to one of shock and disbelief as she recognized the two men standing on her front porch. "Sam? Dean?"


	2. Chapter 2

_A.N. Thank you all for the reviews and follows, I'm thrilled you are enjoying the story so far. I apologize for the wait for the update, I'm not a consistent updater (I also don't hold my updates hostage for reviews, if you're worried about that), and I was also having some trouble with a couple of the scenes, they just did not want to work. I may, at some time in the future, rewrite these scenes, if I do that I'll put a note to that effect in both the updated chapter and the next update. For a list of the songs and their artists featured in this chapter, see the end of the chapter. One more thing, this is a pretty long chapter and not exactly typical of my writing, I just couldn't find a good way to cut this and keep the flow going. As always, input is welcome!_

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**Chapter Two**

Casey's mouth hung open in utter shock as she stared at her guests. "Uh, hey, Case. How ya been?"

Casey's eyes narrowed in suspicion. "Who the hell are you? What the hell are you doing here? And why the hell would you show up wearing my friends' skins?" she demanded while simultaneously running though a mental picture in her head of where all the silver and iron in the house were located and where the closest vial of holy water was stashed.

"Casey, it's really us." Said the thing masquerading as Sam, he produced a silver knife—one that Casey recognized as the knife she'd given Sam for his birthday just before she left for Canada—and drew it across his forearm; blood welled from the wound. The normal, healthy dark red. Then he handed the knife to "Dean" and he did the same—identical result.

Casey raised a skeptical brow, her arms crossed across her chest. "You want to use your own holy water, or do you trust enough that we can dispense with that?"

"Hang on a sec. I want the holy water." She disappeared to the side for a fraction of a second, always keeping them in sight in reflections and periphery. She reappeared with a silver flask and splashed some of the contents on both men—they got wet, but otherwise were unharmed.

"Well, now you've proved that we are who we say we are, can we please come in?"

"There's still the iron and the salt to go through." This got groans from both men.

Once Casey had determined that they were, at the very least human, she allowed them inside the house. "Dean" went straight to Derek's chair and Casey didn't bother to say anything, "Sam" took a seat on the couch, and Casey perched herself on the arm of the couch opposite him.

"What? No hug?" asked "Dean."

"Hey, I haven't determined you _are_ Sam and Dean."

"So why did you let us in the house, then?" asked "Sam."

Casey shrugged, "I got cold."

They both looked at her sternly, with exasperation, and a hint of pride and also about to say something. Casey smiled and bounded over and gave them both a tight hug, "That's all the proof I need. Nobody but the two of you could pull off that look! How long?"

The looked at each other anxiously. "Me, about 2 years. Sam, about a year."

Casey's expression turned stormy. "Why the _fuck_ am I just now hearing about this?!"

Again, they exchanged a look. "We thought you'd be safer if we just stayed dead."

Casey pursed her lips, every inch the raging temper that she used to be known for and gave them each a full-on Gibbs' slap. "OW!" the yelled in unison. "What was that for?" Dean asked petulantly.

"For thinking that letting me think that my two best friends in the world were dead for two years was the best way to protect me. _I'll_ decide what's best for me, and I'll thank you to remember that, otherwise, next time I won't be so nice."

Dean rubbed the back of his head, "All right, geez! Since when did you get so uppity?"

The look on Casey's face after that comment was almost entirely unreadable—Sam identified rage and sadness. She didn't answer his question though. "If you guys thought it was so important for me to think you were dead, then why are you here now?" Again the boys shared a look. "Ok, what's with all the anxious looks? It's getting annoying!"

"Case…" Dean began gently, Casey paled, Dean Winchester didn't _do_ gentle. Unless it was bad.

"Dad's dead, isn't he?"

"Well, we don't know. We can't find him. He's not answering his phones or his door, when we took a look around, we didn't find anything."

"It looks like he just disappeared."

"Did you call around? He's probably just off doing research or helping some other hunters with a case."

They both shook their heads, "We called around. Not even a nibble."

"We need your help to find him." Said Sam.

"How can I help? I haven't talked to him in more than three months. Christmas, I think—so five months."

"You're his daughter…And the more time we lose, the colder the trail goes."

Casey snorted slightly, "Yeah, I'm his daughter—who he shipped off to Canada when he didn't know how to deal with her anymore, who he hasn't spoken to for five months—and even then it was only for fifteen minutes, just long enough to tell me to be good and keep my nose clean! Hell! He talks to you two more than me, I wouldn't even know he was missing or that either of you were alive if were up to him!" Her hurt and anger came out with her worry.

"So, what? You're not gonna help us find your own _father_?" Dean hollered.

"Of course I'm gonna help! Nobody's gonna be field-dressing him but me!" Casey matched him in octave. "But, can it wait for a couple of hours?" she was quieter with this last question.

"What the hell is more important than finding your dad?! He's your blood, damnit!"

Casey opened her mouth to answer and was interrupted by the phone ringing; she cast her eyes downward for a fraction of a second and then defiantly looked Dean in the eye before moving to the answer the ringing handset. "Venturi-McDonald residence." She said politely into the phone. "Oh, hey, Em." She turned around. "Um…No, I'm not ready yet." Pause. "Yeah, I got a bit distracted with something—No, don't worry about it, listen, I'm sorry, but you go on ahead, I'll catch a ride with somebody else, it's no big deal." Pause again. "I'm not gonna be late, don't worry, I will be there—there's no way I'd miss it! Yeah, don't worry, I'll be there. Yeah, bye, Em, see ya in a bit, 'kay?" and with that she hung up, but it was a minute or so before she turned around to face the Winchesters.

"Is that what this is about?" Dean bellowed, now standing and facing her, "You're going to blow off going to find your missing father for some party with your girlfriends? Man, you have changed, Casey!"

Again, Casey lowered her eyes and took a deep, shuddering breath, Dean was just winding up. "Dean." Sam said, putting a hand on his arm—Sam was looking at the banister, his eyes resting on the cap, gown, and tassels that were hanging from it. Dean followed his brother's line of sight and stopped dead in his rant.

"You're graduating today."

"Yeah. Valedictorian."

"And that's why you asked for a couple of hours."

Casey flashed a quick, tight smile.

The wind had been kicked out of Dean's sails and he sat down again.

"Bobby didn't say anything." Sam said.

"I sent him a plane ticket and an invite about two weeks ago; I would assume he's been gone about that long or longer for y'all to have come all the way up here to get me."

"About six weeks."

Casey nodded, taking it in and calculating.

Dean looked at her, "What time is the graduation?"

Casey looked at the wall clock, "In about forty-five minutes."

"How long does it take to get to the school?"

"About fifteen, walking, maybe five driving, Two if Dean drives."

"Well, then you need to go get dressed, there is no way you are missing your graduation!"

Casey smiled and bounded up the stairs, grabbing her cap and gown along the way. Once there she went back to the bathroom to retrieve a towel and her hair dryer and curling iron, she then proceeded to her room to get dressed. She already knew what she wanted to wear to the graduation and was picturing the outfit in her mind as she moved to the closet to retrieve it. When she opened the closet door she was greeted with the sight of empty hangers. All of her clothes were gone and so were all her shoes. A quick recon of her dresser confirmed that all of the clothes there were gone too. Her gaze rose to the top of her closet, where she habitually left her jewelry box—the one with her mother's wedding set in it and the garnet necklace that had been handed down to each first-born daughter in her mother's family for generations.

"Derek." She growled, venom dripping from the single syllable. Her clothes were one thing, but those few pieces of jewelry were off-limits. If she didn't get them back in pristine condition she was going to murder Derek—no ifs, ands, or buts.

She took a deep breath and then pulled her dresser away from the wall, there was a recessed wall safe behind it that she kept all of her hunter's gear in, her duffle was safely resting there after the night's/morning's jaunt. She had clothes in there that she could wear, though nothing that she would really deem appropriate for a graduation. The closest thing that she had was a red, satin, halter sheath dress, with a sweetheart neckline and zippers in the sides, the back, and the neckline as well. There were charms dangling from the ends of each of the zippers, and the skirt ended just below her knees—nevertheless it was pretty slutty. She had a pair of black Christian Louboutin's with rhinestone Playboy bunny skulls on the back of the heels that looked killer with the dress, most of the time she wore a leather jacket with it. She decided to wear a pair of black flats instead, they weren't really appropriate for the dress, but she planned to keep her gown on for as long as possible and they would look fine with that.

After packing the Louboutin's, some extra makeup, and the leather jacket in a black leather purse (never hurts to be prepared for anything), Casey was ready to go, and moved down the stairs to greet the Winchesters.

"Whoa, look at you." Dean said when he'd caught sight of her in her gown and tassels, her hair in tousled ringlets.

"Yeah, Case, you look great." Sam agreed. She beamed at them both.

"Um, I hate to ask, but can you guys give me a lift?"

"Sure thing, Princess."

"We'll even stay, if you like."

Again Casey beamed, "I'd love that!"

Dean was the first one out the door, followed by Casey, as Sam held the door for her. She stopped long enough to lock up and then followed the boys to Dean's 1967 Impala. "Hi, Lola!" she said, quietly.

"Hey, hey. Her name is Baby." Dean reminded her sternly.

"Miss me? I sure missed you." She ran her hand lightly over the hood as she moved to the passenger's side door.

"Uh, Case, what're you doing?" asked Sam, confused.

"I'm riding shotgun, Sammy, what does it look like I'm doin'?"

Sam opened his mouth to protest, "Hey, who's been dead for a year?"

Dean chuckled. "He's been dead for 2 years! Why are you taking my seat?" Sam protested.

"Because you're the responsible one, when I'm not there it's your job to talk some sense into Dean and keep him from doing stupid stuff like lying to me for 2 years—"

"Hey!" Dean exclaimed indignantly.

"Plus, you let him talk you into doing the same thing…"

"Alright, alright. I see your point. You can have shotgun."

Casey and Sam clambered into their respective seats while Dean shrugged and climbed into the driver's seat. AC/DC's _Back In Black_ album began blaring from the sound system as Dean started the car and skillfully piloted it down the driveway and out onto the street toward Thomson High School.

Dean got them there in record time—1 minute, 30. As he helped her out of the car Dean noticed the ring he'd given her for her sixteenth on her hand. "I see you got my gift."

Casey smiled a sad smile. "I did." She didn't feel like explaining what went down, if he'd known already he wouldn't have said anything.

By this time Sam had made his way to their side of the car. "I would've thought you'd be wearing your mother's wedding set, Case. And that garnet necklace that you love so much."

"Nora's step-son, _Derek_, ran off with my entire wardrobe this morning, including my jewelry box with Mom's wedding set and our garnet necklace in it." She said darkly, the look on her face was enough to make both Winchesters worry about what she would do to Derek when she got a hold of him.

"Wait a sec…" Sam said slowly. "If he ran off with your clothes…?"

"He didn't get everything, he missed my hunter stash. Keep your undies on; I'm fully clothed under here."

"Hunter's stash?" the boys said together.

"Oh, c'mon! You didn't really think I would stop hunting just 'cause I came up here did you?"

Dean opened his mouth to say something—"CASEY!" They all swiveled around to see a petite brunette with cappuccino skin and curly hair come bounding toward them.

Casey quickly forced a smile. "Hey Em! Whoa, slow down! There're no Chippendale's dancers around."

Both Winchesters gave her a funny look, but by this time an out-of-breath Emily had reached them and Casey wasn't paying much attention to them. "Ok, whoa, calm down, Em. What is it?"

"(gasp) didn't, (gasp), think, (gasp), going, (gasp), make (gasp) it."

"Well, I'm here. What's the problem?"

"The band that the school had scheduled for the ceremony didn't show up…"

"And this is my problem how…?"

Emily looked slightly taken aback by this interruption. She shook her head, ignored the question and went on with what she was saying. "They want D-Rock to fill in."

"Um, no. They can do that without me. I wasn't a part of the original lineup anyway."

"But it's not D-Rock without you!" Emily wailed.

Casey looked down at her watch (luckily she'd fallen asleep with it on last night, so it had escaped Derek's thievery) they had five minutes before they had to be lined up for graduation to begin. "We've got five minutes, we better get going." She turned to Sam and Dean, "I'll see you guys after?"

"Absolutely." said Sam.

"You betcha, Princess." Dean gave her his patented smirk.

Casey smiled at them and led Emily away towards the gym, Emily all the while trying to convince Casey that she needed to re-join D-Rock for this one last performance.

"She was in a band?" Sam asked, shaking his head as he watched the two girls walk away.

"Apparently."

"We've missed a lot."

"If we don't want to miss her graduating you better move you're sissy ass."

"Jerk."

"Bitch."

~~~  
"I see you made it, Space Case. Couldn't decide what to wear?" Derek asked snidely.

Casey shrugged, "I just figured I streak." Derek's mouth fell open, she turned to leave but turned back a second later, "And Derek, my jewelry box better be immaculate and back in its spot by the end of the day or you're going to regret it. I don't care what you do with my clothes; it was time for new ones anyway." And with that she went to speak briefly to Principal Lassiter about her speech.

After her speech—which she kept brief and to the point—it was time for the graduates to receive their diplomas. One by one, and in alphabetical order, the teens filed across the stage and posed for pictures shaking hands with Lassiter.

"Casey MacDonald." She took a deep breath, and strode across the stage, supremely happy that she had convinced the secretary that her full name—well, the one that was on record for her at the school, anyway—was totally unnecessary. As she received her diploma, flashes went off and a loud round of cheering rose from somewhere in the middle of the front row. She looked down and smiled at her family and then looked to the back of the auditorium—she spotted Sam and Dean and also smiled at them. Then she moved on, off the stage and joined the rest of her class. She opened her leather holder and looked at her diploma—Casey Raye Singer. That was another thing she had convinced the office secretary of—that she had legally changed her name and it should be on her official diploma. Of course it was the name her parents had given her at birth—but Mrs. Hudgins didn't need to know that.

"I can't believe we did it!" Emily squealed once she was seated.

"I know! It seems like it took for_ever_!" Casey replied, only slightly less enthusiastically.

"So, listen, I know you don't want to get back together with D-Rock, but—"

Casey groaned, "Emily, look I know that you think that I should just be caught up in the moment and go sing with Derek and the guys, but I don't want to—and I shouldn't have to just to save Derek's ass, again."

Emily blinked at her friend—Casey swearing, even slightly, did not compute—and how did she know that Derek needed saving? What was this, "again" thing? "How did you…?"

"Know that the reason the band canceled is because when they got here Derek got into it with the lead singer and the manager?" Casey finished for her.

Dumbly, Emily just nodded. "Principal Lassiter told me." That and she'd gotten a phone call from the lead singer, he was an old friend—but Emily didn't need to know that.

"Oh." She said. "But if Lassiter asked you to do it, why aren't you?"

"Because, I think that Derek needs to learn that there won't always be someone there to bail him out."

"So you're just going to let him fail? Embarrass himself?"

"He won't necessarily fail or embarrass himself, Em. He'll just have to help himself."

Emily cocked her head at her friend, she was acting very strange. Before she could further pursue this line of thinking the lights on the stage dimmed, a spotlight swept the crowd on the way to the stage, and Edwin's voice came in over the loud speakers. "Now the moment you've all been waiting fo-o-o-r-r-r…" a rock rhythm began playing, and a huge tapestry of Derek's senior picture unfurled on the stage, "Der…ek… Ven…turi!"

Emily's mouth dropped open in shock, but she soon began to smile as the man himself strutted across the stage to accept his diploma from a very peeved looking Principal Lassiter; out of the corner of her eyes, she caught sight of Casey rolling her eyes and _smirking_?

Instead of moving to the end of the stage after receiving his diploma, as he was supposed to, Derek took the microphone from Principal Lassiter. "Well, we're done with the rat hole! Let's celebrate!" The curtain on the stage behind him went up, revealing Ralph, Sam, and their instruments.

Emily cheered with the rest of the crowd and then turned to Casey, expecting her to go up to the stage and save Derek's butt (she'd been there for the early rehearsals for D-Rock, before Casey joined the band, they were not pretty). Casey sat there, looking up expectantly at the stage, ready to see how the performance was going to go.

"Hey Angel." A voice said behind and to the right of her.

Casey turned, "Blade!" she squealed. "What are you doing here? I thought you wouldn't be able to make it?" At this point Casey had jumped up from her seat and wrapped herself around a muscular guy in ripped jeans and a black AC/DC T-shirt.

"You didn't really think that we'd miss this, did you?" he chuckled, enjoying the attention.

"We? The rest of the guys are here too?" she asked, craning her neck to spot the rest of the crew.

"Well of course. We were supposed to be playing up there right now, but Blake got into a fight with this Derek guy—"

"Of course he did, because Derek is a complete ass at times." Casey cut him off.

"Miss McDonald?"

"Principal Lassiter?"

"Do you know this person?"

Casey very nearly rolled her eyes and replied,_ No, I hug random strangers like this all the time_. Instead, she said, "Yes, sir, he and I are old friends." Casey thought she saw where he was going with this…He wasn't too thrilled about D-Rock playing at the moment, mainly, she suspected, because Derek had weaseled his way into being paid for the gig.

Blade quirked an eyebrow at her, he suspected where this was going too.

"Do you also know Blake Malloy?"

"Yes."

At this point Principal Lassiter looked slightly pained, as if he really didn't want to ask the next question, but Blade put him out of his misery. "Whaddya say, Angel, you wanna get the band back together?"

Casey glared at him playfully for a moment, then rolled her eyes and giggled. "I wasn't aware we had broken up. But what the hell?"

She heard Principal Lassiter breathe a sigh of relief. "We will of course be happy to pay you the original fee."

An idea sparked in Casey's head and out through her eyes. "Uh, oh, I know that look. What are you thinking?" Blade asked a little warily.

"How about we make this a battle of the bands, so to speak, Principal Lassiter?" Both men cocked their heads at her, so she continued. "Whoever gets the most applause gets the money."

"Um…"

Blade shook his head in bemusement, "Awful cocky aren't we?"

Casey quirked an eyebrow at him, "Which way did you leave the guys?"

"Uh, that way, I think…"

"Ok. Hey, Em, I'll see you a little later, I've got to go do something."

"O-kay…?" Emily said distractedly, she was mesmerized by the show going on onstage. It didn't matter anyway; Casey and Blade were already winding their way through the aisles of seats to a back corner. Casey couldn't help the grin that spread across her face when she spotted her old crew. They were standing not too far away from Sam and Dean—these were almost all the people that she cared about in the world, all right there, and safe (if maybe, only for the moment).

There came a chorus of happy "Angel!"s when Casey was within earshot of the group. This got Sam and Dean's attention and they turned to see Casey enveloped in the middle of a group hug with a bunch of guys. Dean cocked an eyebrow at his brother and they sidled over to the group. To eavesdrop.

"Put me down!" Casey was giggling and a broad shouldered blonde guy with a crew cut spun her around once more before settling her gently on her feet.

"So, listen guys, Casey had an idea…" Blade began.

"I dunno if listening to Casey's ideas is such a good one itself…" another guy said, this one also broad shouldered and blonde, but this time his hair was shaggy and had black streaks in it.

Casey assumed a wounded look on her features. "Aw, c'mon Dev, that hurts." But he caught the twinkle in her eyes, just as she had caught the twinkle in his.

"So, what is this _idea_ of Miss Casey's, then?" another guy, this one with light brown hair and green eyes asked.

Casey opened her mouth to answer, but a curious movement out of the corner of her eye caught her attention and Blade took over explaining things to the group as she moved to go investigate.

"Eavesdropping, boys?" she asked, startling Sam and Dean, who were intently listening to Blade's explanation.

Dean gave her a sheepish grin and scratched the back of his neck. "Would you believe, no?"

Casey shook her head. "So, what? You came over here to this dark corner to scope out the chicks in that other dark corner over there?"

Dean scanned the general area in the direction they'd been staring—he didn't see anyone he'd have ever remotely be interested in. There were some scruffy-looking people—probably deadbeat loved ones of graduates who showed up late, or drunk, or stoned, or some sort of combination thereof.

"Ok, we were spying." Dean admitted.

Casey quirked an eyebrow. "We just wondered what was up, that's an unusual group of people you're associating with, there Case." Sam defended.

She smiled, "C'mon, you might as well meet them." She strode off, leaving the brothers to share another look and follow in her wake.

"—totally show that asshole who he's really dealing with!" Dev was saying when Casey arrived back to the group.

"Yo, Angel, where'd you go just now? You totally ditched us!"

"Oh, you know," Casey said casually, "here and there, hither and yon…"

The guy looked momentarily confused and then just shook his head. Sam and Dean arrived, "Guys, this is Sam and Dean Winchester," she said indicating the corresponding brother. "Sam and Dean, these are some of my closest friends from Toronto. That's Blade Malloy, his brother Blake," she pointed to two guys who, despite their different fashion sense were obviously twins. "Caden Reaves and his younger brother," this got a slight glare from the brown haired, green-eyed guy, "Kale. And those three knuckleheads over there are Devlin, Declan, and Desmond Jamison." The last three were all broad-shouldered, each with varying degrees of blonde hair. One of them wore his hair in a buzz cut, another shaggy with black streaks, and the last spiked with the tips Day-Glo orange. All of the guys, except the buzz-cut Desmond were wearing jeans (he was decked out in camo cargos) and T-shirts of varying colors, designs, and tightness.

After the introductions, Blade turned a questioning look on Casey. "Didn't you tell me something about them being dead? Or was that a different Sam and Dean Winchester I'm remembering?"

Even though they were standing behind her Casey could feel the brothers' shared look. "Enough with the significant looks, Winchesters! It's getting annoying!"

"How did-?" Dean began.

"I'm _that_ good. And I know you both really well." Then, looking Blade directly in the eye she said, "It's a long story and I promise to tell you all about it, later."

Casey heard D-Rock start to play the song that Derek and she had fought about so much while preparing for the Battle of the Bands during sophomore year. She knew this would be their finale, which meant that she needed to get Blake and the boys and head toward the backstage area to prepare for their performance. "Guys," she said into the uncomfortable silence that had grown between the Winchesters and her Toronto friends. They all looked at her, and she was momentarily more uncomfortable that she had been before she'd spoken. "This will be D-Rock's finale, we need to get going."

Her Toronto friends nodded and started to head toward the stage. "You comin'?" Desmond asked over his shoulder.

"Yeah, I'll be there in a sec." she turned to Sam and Dean. "Look, we've got this performance…" she didn't really know where to go from there—Sam and Dean had been, well, dead, at least to her, for about two years and part of her was afraid that if she left them now that all this would turn out to be just a dream; and she would wake up at home in her bed, the night before graduation and none of it would have happened at all.

"I thought that girl—" Sam began.

"Emily." Casey supplied.

"Emily. Said that you were part of D-Rock, why are you performing with those guys and not up there now?"

"That is a bit of a long story, but the short version is, that I am in a band with Blade and them, and have been since before D-Rock was formed, so my loyalty lies with them. Look, I gotta go, I'll meet ya after the show, 'kay?"

"Yeah, ok."

"Break a leg, Princess."

With a last smile she made her way to the stage area.

~~~  
"Ok, so we're going to do something a little different…" Blake was out on stage, explaining to the crowd what was going on, while at the same time D-Rock was also just finding out.

"What is all this about, Case?" Sam, Derek's best friend and Casey's former boyfriend, asked.

Casey quirked an eyebrow and smirked at him. " Why, Sam, whatever do you mean?" she said with a hint of feigned innocence.

Blade came up behind her. "Hey, you're the guy Derek argued with…" Sam was sometimes a bit dense.

"Um, no..." Blade said slowly "that was my brother," he indicated Blake onstage then touched Casey's shoulder. "You're not gonna wear that cap and gown out there, Angel."

Casey could see Sam visibly tense at his words, she knew that he knew she didn't take too well to being given orders. She rolled her eyes and turned to Blade, "Um, duh. I would die of heat exhaustion. Just gimme five, and I'll be ready. Usue set list?"

Blade smiled, his eyes crinkling at the edges. "You know it, babe." She could feel the confusion radiating from Sam as she moved toward one of the dressing rooms.

With the clothes she'd been forced to wear that morning—Derek was really gonna regret stealing her clothes—she really only needed to change her shoes and touch up her makeup and hair.

She poked her head out of one of the room, "Oy! Dev!"

Devlin stopped and turned back to her, eyebrows raised in question.

"Jacket or no jacket?" she asked stepping out and revealing her outfit.

"Um…Wow."

"Yes, thank you. Now, jacket or no jacket?" This time she held up the leather jacket.

Devlin shook his head a bit to clear it. "Uh, start off with the jacket then lose it during _What the Hell_."

Casey nodded. "Brilliant, I'm ready to rock this joint, then." And he followed her out.

~~~  
"…and without further ado…Please give it up for Nightstalker!" Principal Lassiter introduced as the curtain went up.

With Casey a little left of center stage and the guys a bit behind and flanking her they began an upbeat rock tune.

"Click clack shimmer 'n shine…" it took the crowd a couple of stunned moments to realize that they were seeing their class keener/valedictorian up onstage, dressed to kill and belting it out in perfect pitch.

"Silver, shiny, sexy, it's love and/The music's playing so loud/Disco balls and big crowds baby…Everybody's in a line now/ Dressed up to the nines now, baby…" Casey was now moving across the stage, putting her dancer's background to good use.

"His eyes, they tell me what I need to know/Your touch tells me where I need to go…My lead will make you wanna get so close…" Casey was dancing very suggestively, leaning in closely to Blade who was playing bass guitar. The watching crowd was still slightly stunned at what their keener valedictorian was up on stage doing, but at this point they were getting caught up in the music and beginning not to care.

"Well I like to dance/So if you do just get on the floor/Forget the romance/This is what music was created for/So find someone hot/And if you're not it doesn't matter/ Baby take what you got and/ Just go dancing you'll feel better…!" Casey danced her way back to center stage and took the opportunity, while there was a lull in the lyrics, to address the crowd. "C'mon, now, this isn't a song for sitting still to, I want you to get up and jump along with me!" At this she began to rhythmically jump in place to the music (many in the crowd wondered how she did this without turning an ankle and falling off the stage).

"I like to dance [jump]/I like to dance [jump] dance [jump] dance [jump] dance [jump]/Lovesick electric sex thoughts/ are flying all around me/He said, she said "let's leave" baby…" By now most of the crowd was on their feet jumping and dancing with the band.

~~~  
At the back of the auditorium, Sam and Dean took all this in, gobsmacked by Casey's performance. This was not the girl they had known all her life—but then again, they had been absent from it for awhile now.

"She's got a great voice." Commented Sam.

Dean nodded, "She sure does. It's just too bad that she's wasting it on this kind of crap."

Sam looked at his brother, shook his head and laughed. There was no point in trying to change Dean's mind about this, in his mind good music ended in the very early '90s, and that was stretching it.

For Sam's part, it wasn't the kind of music he usually went in for, but he had to admit that there was an infectious vibe to it; and by the end of the song he was tapping his foot in time with the music.

"Alright, alright…Y'all did great!" Casey was saying onstage. "I know for a fact that there are a few of you out there that aren't into this kind of music, so for those of you that feel that way, you're only going to have to suffer through one more before we switch gears." The music to another upbeat pop song began—"You say I'm messin' with your head…"

Dean shook his head. "What the hell…?"

* * *

_**A.N. 2: **__As promised here is a list of music and artists featured in this chapter._

_AC/DC's _Back in Black_ album,_

"I Like to Dance"_ by Hot Chelle Rae off of their _Lovesick Electric _album,_

_and_

"What the Hell" _by Avril Lavigne from her _Goodbye Lullaby _album._

_From the previous chapter:_

_There were lyrics from Taylor Swift's _"Love Story" _from her _Fearless_ album,_

_References to Filter's _"Hey Man, Nice Shot" _(_Short Bus_), _"Carry On Wayward Son" _by Kansas, _"Eye of the Tiger" _by Survivor, and to the entire body of work by Shinedown._


	3. Chapter 3

**A.N.** I apologise for the wait on the update, things have been hectic around here. This one is short, but does provide some furtherance of the plot, so I hope that makes up a bit. As always, thank you for the support.

**Disclaimer:** Anything you might recognize, I don't own and I'm not making any money off of this (how sad is that?).

**Chapter Three**

_The room was cold, but I was sweating nevertheless. It had _that smell_ about it, you know the one, the smell of disinfectant with subtle undertones of desperation, death, and disease. The lights were almost glaringly bright, reflecting off the pale green and white tiles._

"_I'm sorry. You have Daegon's Disease." The doctor's voice rang hollow._

_I blinked, uncomprehending. "I have _what_?"_

_Daegon's Disease, as it turns out, is a fatal condition affecting the neurological systems of the body causing erratic, almost psychotic behavioral changes. This is due to the fact that there is a malfunction with the adrenal gland and it's communication with the immune system. Basically, while I was going insane, my body would be attacking itself, destroying first the serotonin and norepinephrine hormones in my brain and then my brain itself._

"_It is quite rare, and there are not many treatments and no known cure." The doc's voice droned on—great! Terrific! Not only am I dying, but it's rare enough that not many researchers are working on a cure for it! Why do I have to always do everything the hard way?_

_After the doctor's visit I drug myself to a bar…And I don't know how I woke up on my couch the next morning._

"Agent Collins." The man was dressed in a rumpled black suit, a grey tie, and a tan overcoat. He had a beard and looked as if he weren't quite at home in the suit—but he definitely looked at home with the Glock nine millimeter that was strapped to his shoulder.

"Detective Selby." He stuck out his hand and shook hands with the agent.

"So," Agent Collins began, "what have we got here?"

"Female, age 20. At this point it looks like some sort of ritual thing—"

"How so?"

"Well…Take a look for yourself, Agent."

The scene was a mess. There was blood and bits of what looked like flesh and possibly brain matter everywhere. The body—what was left of it—was in the middle of the room, with a gaping, jagged hole in the middle of the forehead. The head itself has been severed from the neck and so had the limbs.

Agent Collins squatted down carefully in front of the corpse. He cocked his head as he examined the remains. "Is anything missing?"

"We don't know yet. The ME will take inventory and put it in the report. There was nothing missing from the first victim. This is an extreme escalation. With the first victim, a Callie Jo Jackson, there was no dismemberment. COD for her was strangulation. There was an eye drawn with magic marker on forehead—I suspect that the hole in this vic is the corresponding mark. There were also other signs at the first scene of ritualistic murder. But I don't understand the level of escalation at this one."

Agent Collins shook his head and rose. "When will the ME's report be in?"

"I'm takin' the body back to the morgue now and should be doin' the autopsy in about twenty minutes." A woman in a white lab coat and booties on her stilettos said from behind the men. "I should have that report done by six tonight, nine tomorrow at the latest. Dr. Carol Leis, I'm the medical examiner around here." She stuck out her hand for Collins to shake. He did, said he'd check in later that night for the report and left—presumably to follow some leads for the case.

When he was back in his room at a local flea-bag motel Bobby Singer, AKA Agent Collins left a message for the Winchester boys:

"Boys, I'm on the trail of somethin' big. I might need yer help here. I'll call ya back later with the details."

**A.N. 2: **Daegon's Disease was made up, it's named after someone who, at the time, annoyed me. He got a kick out of it, so don't worry about hurt feelings. Also, can you spot the Easter egg(s) that I dropped?


End file.
